Snow Angel
by ChessKeeper
Summary: Fenrir was a cold man and he wasn't use to companionship. He had accepted the fact that he was a lone wolf, that was until he found Harry Potter outside of his cave injured. SLASH Fenrir/Harry (Under heavy editing)
1. 1

Title: Snow Angle

Author: ChessKeeper

Rating: M

Paring: Harry/Fenrir

Warning: Slash

Disclamer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: This isn't my first Harry Potter fanfiction, however, this is the first I've posted and don't intend on taking down because I realize it is rubbish. I have no beta so all the mistakes are mine, and mine alone. Please if you see something particularly glaring let me know.

Enjoy.

Chapter One: Discovery

Fenrir mentally berated himself for leaving his cave. It was now snowing and he had yet to come across any animals, and this was not a good combination. It didn't help that the full moon was in just a couple of days and he felt restless, and unfortunately aroused constantly.

He wanted to run with a pack, and he wanted to fuck. Yet neither of these things were available to him. Running was made impractical because of the several inches of snow blanketing the ground, and he wasn't part of a pack either.

Fucking was also out of the question, unless Fenrir counted furiously masturbation as an act of sex, and he didn't. He classified what he did earlier that morning as a desperate attempt to be able to walk comfortably for the rest of the day. It didn't work, within ten minutes, he was already aroused again.

Damn werewolf libido.

Fenrir sniffed the air, but all he could smell was the crisp scent of winter and the surrounding trees. With a huff of frustration, Fenrir turned around and stalked back to his cave, but not before gathering an arm full of firewood for later.

Once Fenrir arrived home, or what he had dubbed home for the winter, he dropped the firewood haphazardly on the floor. He then tended to the fire, making sure it was blazing appropriately before laying back and closing his eyes. Fenrir rested his back against the cave wall enjoying the heat that the fire was giving off.

It wasn't everyday that Fenrir could light a fire without worrying that the humans would find him. Humans were very curious creatures, and they stuck their noses in to places they didn't belong. But Fenrir figured their was too much snow and the sky was to gray for anyone to notice a small fire.

Fenrir could feel himself nodding off and he didn't even try to resist the lull of sleep.

When Fenrir awoke it wasn't because of the cold, or natures call it was the sound of twigs snapping outside of his cave.

Fenrir's eyes snapped open and he cautiously made his way outside. It was then that he smelt it, the scent of blood, human blood to be exact. It took Fenrir several minutes to locate the source of the blood because of the snow.

Slowly Fenrir approached the snow-covered body. He could see a lump of black hair poking out of the pink tinted snow. He stood there eyeing the lump trying to decide whether to drag the body back to his cave, or leave the body there.

Despite the rumors about him, Fenrir wasn't into cannibalism and having a dead body in his cave wasn't appealing.

It wasn't until Fenrir heard a soft painful moan that he realized that he wasn't looking at a corpse, but he would be soon if he didn't do anything.

Weeks ago, Fenrir would have returned to his cave and ignored the young man bleeding at his feet, but the need for companionship overrode his need for privacy and he reluctantly dragged the boy into the safety of his cave.

He brought the boy over next to the fire. Without hesitation, Fenrir stripped him of his wet clothes. He then shredded the black haired boy's shirt and used the tattered pieces to bandage him up. Stroking the fire back to life, he deposited the last of the wood onto it.

The cave quickly heated up but not fast enough for Fenrir's liking. He scooped the boy up, much gentler than before, and moved him to the bed which consisted of several blankets, pelts, and various fur he had collected strewn around in one area.

Once Fenrir had settled the boy in, covered him in blankets, and noticed that he had finally stopped shivering he took the time to study the child.

The first thing he noticed was that he was small. He couldn't be much older than fifteen, however the raw scent of power emanating from the boy seemed to contradict this. His eyes were closed but Fenrir imagined that they were probably an ordinary color like brown or black to match his hair.

His hair was an unruly mess of tangles that Fenrir didn't dare touch. He could see that it was matted with blood. There was enough blood to be concerned but not enough, in his opinion, to bandage it. Plus it was already dry and it smelt days old.

The boy was pale but from what he had seen, the younger male had some muscles. He was toned and on the skinny side, painfully skinny. It unnerved him.

With a deep breath, Fenrir settled down beside the boy. He turned his back to the younger man and closed his eyes. The soft sounds of another person breathing felt foreign to him, not necessarily bad, but strange. He had been alone for years opting for privacy and freedom over companionship and the pack life.

Harry's head was pounding. He didn't dare open his eyes in fear of what he would see. Harry moved his hands slowly up to his head. Gently he prodded at the top of his skull and was dismayed to discover he couldn't even get his fingers through his hair.

Defeated he dropped his hand back down on his chest and gasped in pain. It was then that Harry noticed he wasn't freezing or covered in snow, to his shock he noticed that he was actually naked.

The soft fur pelt beneath him was calming, he doubted if Voldemort had captured him then he wouldn't be nearly as comfortable and he surely wouldn't have bandaged him up. Harry's eyes fluttered open and he was greeted with the sight of a mass of gray blur, which was much different than the normal white blur he would wake up to in the infirmary.

"You're awake." A voice growled making Harry snap his head up in a panic. He glared through his nausea caused by the sudden movement at the ominous blur in front of him. The blur bopped down in front of what looked like a fire. "Hungry?"

Harry not trusting his voice nodded his head slowly. He held the blanket down around himself in embarrassment, being naked in front of a strange man was not in his comfort zone. The blur shifted and before Harry knew it, the man was helping him sit up gently avoiding his injurious. Then a bowl was placed in his hands before he had time to protest. "Eat up."

The fear of poisons or potions flew from Harry's mind, as he smelt the aroma of the stew. Harry took a tentative sip and heaven flooded his taste buds, Harry couldn't even remember the last time he had a full meal. With a couple of mouthfuls of food in his stomach, Harry suddenly remembered himself and realized how rude he was acting. "Thank you." He spoke quietly, his voice sounding foreign even to his own ear.

The other man just ignored Harry who was happily stuffing his face full. Midway through his bowl of stew, which he was eating by sipping since the man provided no utensils, a piece of what Harry assumed was bread was chucked into his lap.

"Thank you." Harry said again this time his voice was much stronger. He eyed the blurry man who seemed to be apathetic to his presence.

The bread was hard, and stale, but honestly Harry didn't care. He dipped in the stew to soften it, which made it much easier to chew. Caught up in his eating Harry didn't notice the other man approach him. The man crouched down in front of Harry who looked up just in time to see his glasses being slipped on his face.

Harry blinked several times. "Thank you once again." Harry paused for a second and finally asked, "Who are you?"

The man sat beside the fire and turned his head toward him. Harry took a second to study the man's face. He was older than Harry was, but despite his gray hair, he wasn't that old looking. His mouth seemed to be permanently set in a cross between a grimace and a frown. He was wearing a pair of brown shorts that were obviously old and he was shirtless. There were neither shoes that Harry saw nor socks.

"My name is Fenrir Grayback."

"It's nice to meet you Fenrir." Harry stumbled over his words. The name Fenrir sounded familiar but he couldn't quite remember where he heard it. "My name is Harry." He ended lamely not mentioning his surname.

Fenrir nodded and waved his hand dismissively, "You are still injured. Go back to bed and tomorrow you will answer my questions."

Harry sat the bowl down along with his glasses. He paused and stifled a yawn. Now that he thought about it, he was rather tired. Harry arranged himself in the pile of blankets so that he was comfortable and closed his eyes. The sound of fire crackling met his ear and with a quiet, "Thank you." Harry drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Fenrir sat silently watching the boy, Harry, sleep. It was a remarkable sight. Fenrir could honestly say that he couldn't even remember a time when someone had let their guard down around him and slept.

Harry looked so vulnerable lying their on his back, like a turtle, with his soft easily damaged belly up. So trusting and innocent yet that submissive state screamed at Fenrir to be dominate and...

Fenrir snorted and stood up fleeing the cave quickly.

It was true that his instinct told him to take the boy, mate with him and relieve some of his sexual frustration. It would be easy to do; he was already injured and couldn't over power him. The thing that held Fenrir back was the look of pure gratitude the boy had on his face when Fenrir handed him the bowl of food.

No one was grateful to Fenrir, at best most people respected him at worst they ran screaming and the latter was more frequent now days.

Where Fenrir had expected to find dull brown eyes he was surprised to find lively green ones instead. Even with all the dirt and grim Fenrir couldn't help but stare. The image of him laying so exposed on his bed wasn't helping his arousal problem.

Fenrir took a long deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he searched for food. He had used the last bit of meat for the stew and he needed to find more soon. The smell of a blizzard was in the air and Fenrir knew he had to act fast.

Fenrir gathered several handfuls of wood and moved them safely inside the cave. Each time he returned with more supplies he would glance over towards the bed to make sure Harry hadn't left, and each time he ended up staring for longer amounts of time.

He gathered a bucket of fish, and a couple of rabbits, he was even lucky enough to catch a doe. Fenrir carefully placed the meat in the back of the cave where the temperature was lower then in the main area. The food wouldn't last long, maybe a few days, but that would be enough to get them through the worst of the blizzard.

Fenrir hated the winter. By this time last year, he had safely made it to his small hut that he used during the thick of winter. Unfortunately, the blizzard moved too fast for him to relocate himself and the boy. Just walking there would take a whole day, and they didn't have that kind of time, plus Fenrir was reluctant to move Harry due to his injuries. Fenrir wasn't a doctor by any means but it was obvious that the younger male was in no shape to be moved around.

Human healing times were always hard to predict for Fenrir, he hadn't been a weak human in a long time, a very long time.

Returning to the cave Fenrir warmed his hands on the fire deep in his own thought. He was drawn out of his thoughts by an increase of breathing from Harry. Hesitantly Fenrir turned his attention towards the makeshift bed. The blanket covering Harry had slipped down to his waist exposing his chest to the coolness of the cave.

He was turning and twisting his body around as if trying to get away from an invisible foe. Fenrir was immediately worried when he felt the boy's brow, heat was radiating off it and if Fenrir had to guess, he'd say either his fever was due to his injuries or exposure to the elements, either way a fever wasn't good news. "Harry?" Fenrir patted the boy on the cheek trying to bring him back to consciousness. Harry didn't awake though, he just arched his neck and relished in the coolness of Fenrir's hand.

Fenrir eyes widened as Harry practically snuggled into his hand. Harry's breath brushed over Fenrir's palm and Fenrir withdrew his hand as if he had been burned. Shaking his head Fenrir rummaged around the cave and found an old piece of cloth. He wet the cloth using snow and placed it on the squirming boy's head. Fenrir settled down beside Harry occasionally re-wetting the cloth. When the sunset Fenrir became hungry and popped a raw fish into his mouth eating it quickly.

Wiping the blood from his mouth Fenrir once again made himself comfortable beside Harry. He tried to convince himself that the quiet little whimpers coming from the boy did not affect him, but they did. Not only did he have to worry about Harry's heath but also the full moon. It was drawing closer and Fenrir found it harder to control his urges and temperament. He could feel the pull unusually strong at nighttime it was almost unbearable.

Gritting his teeth in aggravation Fenrir willed himself to sleep but was awoken roughly hours later by a shivering form pressing against him. Fenrir growled, his mouth salivated as his nose was filled with Harry's scent.

As the hours ticked away, and the full moon approached Fenrir swore that Harry's scent was becoming even harder to resist.

Half of Fenrir wanted to flee; the other half of him wanted to bury himself deep inside Harry and fuck like there was no tomorrow. Fenrir cursed and tried in vain to remove himself from Harry who was gripping Fenrir's arm like a lifeline.

The heat radiating off the younger male was worrisome, but there wasn't anything Fenrir could do but wait and try to cool the boy down the best he could.

Harry was dreaming. He was sure of it. Someone was calming his fears by gently touching his forehead, his neck, his cheek and the top of his shoulders; the hand was cold and comforting. It soothed the heat emanating from his pallid skin. No one offered Harry comfort, not like that.

The touch was different from who anyone had ever touched him before.

Sirius would gently place his hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him. Remus would ruffle his hair like an uncle would do to a child and Mrs. Weasley would hug him.

"Quiet down, your whimpering will wake the whole forest." A voice soft and feathery echoed in Harry's mind. The words were harsh but the voice lacked any maliciousness. "Much better, sleep boy, you're sick."

Harry tried to speak, but he found that he couldn't. This enticed panic within Harry. He grabbed his throat and tried to call out. All that came out of Harry's mouth were pathetic whimpers he didn't even recognize as his own voice.

"Calm down." There was a long pause as Harry dropped his hands, his eyes fluttered open but he couldn't see anything and in frustration, he closed them. "Shh," The voice hushed him into sleep.

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><p>AN: Edit 4/10/2012 Chapter's one and two have been combined because I was unsatisfied with the length of them separate.


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A/N: I'm glad that everyone seems to be enjoying this story. Sorry the update was late, real life got in the way.

Enjoy.

Chapter Two: More Discoveries

Harry was roused from a deep sleep by the growing in his stomach. He opened his eyes and struggled to sit up. Flexing his fingers Harry checked over his injuries, they were much better than the other day. His ribs only stung slightly now, and his head was just sore. His chest ached, but the pain was noting compared to yesterday. The gash on his arm had already scabbed over. His bruises had turned yellow and the scab on his back itched horribly, but overall he was alive and well.

He was injured and helpless in front of a complete stranger, and all he truly wanted to do was take an extremely long bath. His body felt disgusting, and if he had his wand he would have needed to cast several cleansing charms.

Harry groped for his glasses and found exactly where he left them the other day. Sipping them on, Harry realized just how cold he was. He shivered violently and wrapped the fur pet around himself tightly. Spotting the fire Harry limped over to it and sighed in relief as heat washed over him. It was freezing and his teeth clanged together violently. Being half naked and only being covered by an old thin blanket wasn't ideal for the dead of winter.

Footsteps drew his attention away from the fire. He looked up at the mouth of the cave and was greeted with the sight of the tall gray haired man named Fenrir. Snow clung to Fenrir's wild hair and he had water trails down the front of his chest from the melted snow.

Flustered Harry looked away mumbling a quiet good morning. The fire was suddenly much more interesting than before. The reds and oranges danced before his eyes, and he barely noticed when Fenrir sat down beside him. The cave was quiet, all except for the gentle crackling of the fire and the harsh wind whistling outside.

Gathering his courage Harry asked the first thing on his mind "Is it possible for me to take a bath?" Harry shook his head realizing how stupid that sounded, it was the middle of winter and he was inside of the cave. All the water nearby would either be frozen or freezing cold and neither of these two options would work for a bath.

"Never mind." Harry muttered, his hands nervously tugging on the makeshift bandages covering his chest. Self-consciousness washed over Harry and he clutched the blankets around his abdomen. Surely the man would think he was a bumbling invalid now.

The other man stood up quickly and dragged Harry up by the top of his arm. Harry winced at the sudden movement but didn't dare complain. Stumbling his knees gave away and he would have crumpled to the ground if Fenrir's strong arms hadn't rapped around him, catching him.

"Sorry," Harry blushed his face buried into Fenrir's bare chest. Seemingly, unfazed Fenrir hoisted the smaller boy up in his arms making Harry wrap his hands around his neck. "W-where are you taking me?"

"Bath." Fenrir grunted offering no other explanation as he carried a squirming Harry farther into the cave. Darkness engulfed them as they moved away from the fire, but Harry could see a dim light up ahead. He wanted to ask about it, but remained silent in fear of annoying the other man.

"You can bathe here." Fenrir explained setting a stunned safely on the ground. "The water is warm here."

"Oh wow, this is amazing!" Harry exclaimed looking around in wonder. It was dark inside the cave, but the walls hummed with energy and the stalagmites covering the ceiling glowed a soft blue color. So caught up in gawking at the natural beauty Harry didn't hear Fenrir silently sneak out.

"This is beautiful." Harry smiled softly. He turned around wanting to thank Fenrir for allowing him to bathe but he was surprised to find himself alone.

Harry approached the main pool of water and crouched down beside it, after he placed his glasses safely on the ground, he dipped his hand in letting it skim the water. Then he removed the blanket covering himself and slowly sank into the water trying to find a comfortable place to sit.

Eventually he did and settled down; tenderly he removed the bandages around his chest wincing at the bruises and cuts that were revealed. Cupping the water, he started watching the blood out of his hair.

Finally alone Harry went into autopilot, his hands scrubbed himself cleaned of the blood, grim, and dirt, while his mind was far away mulling over all that had happened in such a sort amount of time. It seemed like just yesterday that he was trapped inside Dudley's old room being starved and humiliated by his uncle, and now he inhabited a cave with a man he didn't even know.

Harry wasn't about to complain though. Anywhere was better than number four Privet drive, even a dusty old cave in the middle of the strange forest, despite the fact that Harry wasn't entirely sure how he got there.

His memory of the last couple of days had holes in them. The last thing he remembered was the floorboard of his uncle's car and immense pain in his head. His uncle was yelling but he couldn't hear anything, his mouth was moving and his face beet red but not sound came out.

Harry hissed as he put pressure on his ribs, he glanced down at his chest and in the dim light, he could see the outline of his uncle's shoe print. Honestly, he was surprised he wasn't in worse shape.

Accidental magic wasn't new to Harry, but his magic had never done that before. It was all Dudley's fault, if he had his friends hadn't attacked him then his magic wouldn't have flared out in defense. It was a simple stunning spell but once Dudley told Vernon, along with a lot of embellishment, Harry knew he was in serious trouble.

While Harry was contemplating all that had happened Fenrir was busy trying to fix an adequate dinner, but his thoughts were still on the emerald-eyed beauty currently nude, vulnerable, and bathing.

Gritting his teeth in frustration Fenrir shoved the fish on a stick into the fire. It let out a hissing noise and the smell of fish permeated the cave.

The full moon was in two days and his hormones were raging. The urge to bite was overwhelming and just being in the presence of the boy was nearly unbearable. His scent, despite being tainted with dirt and the spell of nature, was alluring and Fenrir was tempted to burry his nose where the scent was strongest and inhale.

His mouth salivated at the thought of what he would smell like clean. Fenrir groaned as his sensitive ears picked up the sound of water sloshing and a slight intake of breath.

What the hell was he thinking? He should have just let the boy freeze at least then he wouldn't be forced to restrain himself. Fenrir groaned, he desperately wanted to turn the boy.

He was tired of being alone; the beast inside him yearned for a packmate.

Fenrir knew that during the full moon the temptation to sink his canines into the boys alabaster skin would be irresistible.

He would turn the boy, if he was lucky, or perhaps the bite wouldn't take and the boy would die. It would be painful as his werewolf venom practically ravished and destroyed the weaker human body.

Not that it would matter whether he wanted to turn Harry or not; because once the full moon arrived all common sense would flee and instead be replaced by only basic instinct. Instinct was what told him to turn the boy any ignore what Harry wanted but Fenrir still remembered the last time he was willingly around a human during the full moon, and that was the reason why he was so hated and feared in Britain.

Remus Lupin was a mistake. Fenrir had been young and reckless, foolish and naïve in the belief that the younger tawny hair child would accept him and they would escape the prejudices of the wizarding world.

Fenrir shouldn't have been surprised when Remus was disgusted at him, but he was. He cried and pleaded for Fenrir to taking home, but that was the exact opposite of what he did. Instead, he kidnapped the small boy and fled into the forest. He controlled the child by making outlandish threats against his family. Fenrir got a sense of thrill of being dominant over someone; it came second nature to him.

However, after a few months of sleeping in the forest and eating raw foods it became harder for Fenrir keep the boy under control.

Remus became more reckless the unhappier he got and after a particularly bad escape attempt, that left him with a broken arm, Fenrir lost his temper and scared the boy into submission with stories of children he had turned, killed, and violated. His terror stories became more graphic and violent.

Eventually the Aurors caught up to them and Fenrir barley escaped alive. That was really the last time he had contact with another person, besides the occasional hunters that stumbled upon him.

The quiet calling of his name interrupted his thoughts of the past, "Fenrir?"

Fenrir grunted turning around, eyeing the dripping wet male hungrily. Harry who didn't seem to notice and continued, "I need some clothes. It's cold." Harry shifted drawing the wet blanket close to himself shivering.

Fenrir wanted to protest and insist the boy walk around in the nude because it was such a delicious sight but his nose caught a whiff of the boys' natural scent and he lost it. He grabbed the boy by his shoulders and shoved him roughly against the cave wall.

Harry was petrified, the instant his back collided with the stone of the cave he knew exactly what Fenrir was. He was a werewolf, the glow of his eyes and the feral air about him now made sense. He had witnessed the increased sensitivity to light, the irrational anger, and the increased sense of smell.

Harry's panic shot through the roof when he felt the tip of Fenrir's canines skim the sensitive skin on his neck. Harry racked his mind for what to do as Fenrir let out a particularly harsh growl, and then he remembered what Remus had told him to do if he was ever cornered by a werewolf.

Slowly Harry craned his neck to the side submitting to Fenrir. He clinched his eyes shut tightly and waited. He could feel the warm breath puff against his neck as Fenrir's calloused hands held him steady.

Fenrir was confused. The scent from the black haired male was driving him crazy, and having his nose buried in his neck where the scent was the strongest made blood rush southward. He had expected the boy to put up a fight but when he just tilted his head and bared his neck in submission Fenrir knew immediately why he was having this reaction.

The wolf inside of him howled and Fenrir acted fast. He withdrew his hands from Harry, turned, and stormed out of the cave.

With every footstep he took the beast inside of him chanted: _Mate Mate Mate Mate Mate_.

Fenrir ran. He ignored the wolfs urging him to go back and claim the boy, instead he ran as fast as possible.

His mate was a human boy.

Fenrir cursed slamming his fist against a tree. A sickening crunch met his ears before the pain exploded, but the pain only distracted him momentarily. It healed quickly and he was back in mental anguish.

Fenrir had never resisted his wolfish side before and not obeying didn't feel right, but something was telling him to hold back.


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A/N: I'm shocked that so many people have reviewed, and story alerted this fanfic. Thank you.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three: New News

Harry waited up well into the night, reluctant to close his eyes in fear of what might happen. He did not want to be caught unsuspecting and defenseless. Fenrir was intimidating. His tall stature and bulky muscles emphasized his brute strength. There wouldn't be anyway for Harry to win in a fight, not even with his haphazard bursts of accidental magic, and that was a terrifying feeling.

Harry shivered and huddled in on himself, his stomach churning with emotions.

He felt sick; his head thumped ruthlessly making every move agonizing. He wanted to go back and take another bath but the effort to move was just too much, instead he practically crumpled to the ground and curled up next to the dwindling fire.

He closed his eyes and finally surrendered to the sweet release of sleep.

_It was dark and Harry couldn't see anything, but he could hear clearly._

_"Where isss he?" The voice was strained, an inhuman sound._

_"Gone_ _My Lord." Lucius Malfoy's words were low and cautious. "He is no longer at number 4 privet drive."_

_"Crucio." The burning in his scar intensified and then sweet coolness settled over him. "How can thisss be?"_

_"Find him Luciusss, before the Order doesss."_

_"Y-yes My Lord."_

_"Oh and Luciusss."_

_"Yes, what is it my lord?"_

_"Bring your ssson to me."_

_There was a pregnant pause, and Harry could feel the worry and anxiety rolling off the older Malfoy._

_"Of course My Lord."_

F/H/F/H

Fenrir ran. He ran until his legs throbbed and his throat burned with every gulp of air. The idea that he had a mate was just too much for him to comprehend. It was too good to be true, he felt as if he was dreaming.

However, this was better than a dream. It was reality. A reality that was new to him

Fenrir shuffled through the snow, his pace slowing down to a mild walk.

Approaching a clearing, Fenrir listened closely for any movement. He eyed the remote house up ahead, that was the home of two hunters. Fenrir allowed them to remain in the forest only because he used it in the winter.

The house was empty due to the harsh winter. The hunters only came during the summer.

Fenrir lifted the floor mat and picked up the small key. He opened the door and went inside. The cabin was small; the walls were covered with taxidermy animals. The air was musty and the scent of dust hung heavily in the air.

He raided the cabin, finding a little bit of human food and some clothes his mate.

He couldn't stop the smug grin that spread across his face, _his mate,_ mother moon had deemed him worthy of having a mate. It was an honor to find a mate; most werewolves searched life times for one.

He mentally cataloged all the information he knew about his mate. His name was Harry; he was small, pale, and delicate. His eyes were beautiful emerald gems and he was a submissive. He was also hurt, and this made rage well up inside of him. Who ever dared to hurt his mate would suffer.

Fenrir made himself comfortable on the couch. It squeaked underneath him harshly. Palm up he stared at his hands. His nails were long and untrimmed. They weren't the hands worthy of holding his mate.

His mate was a delicate human, at least for now.

Fenrir gnawed at his fingernails until they were much shorter and less rugged looking. He then ran his hand through his long hair and grimaced, it was grimy and matted. Fenrir stood and checked to see if there was running water, which there was.

He quickly stripped down and took a quick shower. He eyed the shampoo and conditioner cautiously but ended up not using either, instead he just used the water and his hands to scrub the dirt away.

He worked his fingers through his hair, untangling it in the process. Fenrir wanted to look decent for his mate. He wanted Harry to want him. Stepping out of the shower Fenrir redressed and looked for a pair of scissors to cut his hair. He didn't find any, so he settled instead for combing it neatly back. He found a razor and quickly shaved.

He wasn't completely ignorant of the human world. Human's didn't like overly hairy things. Beards were something fathers and grandfathers had, not lovers.

A now clean Fenrir gathered up the stuff he had found and set it all out on the kitchen table. He then set out back to the cave to retrieve Harry.

When he finally made it back to the cave he was greeted with the sight of his mate huddled into a ball beside the fire. A smile tugged at his lips for a brief moment, until he noticed his mate was shivering and flushed an unnatural red.

Fenrir knelt down and cupped the younger man's cheek. He frowned at the heat that was emanating off Harry's skin. "Harry?" He gently shook the boy shoulders but received no answer.

He scooped him up, along with the blankets, and started the long trek back to the cabin. He cradled the boy to his body trying to warm him up. It worked and after several minutes Harry stopped shivering and nestled his head into Fenrir's neck. His breath ghosted over Fenrir's skin and Fenrir couldn't help the feeling of intimacy that washed over him. He held Harry to his chest tightly and silently relished in the scent that was his mates.

He was going to protect this man. He silently vowed, no one would ever hurt him again.

Fenrir was able to reach the cabin before sunset but instead of going instantly inside, he stood outside the cabin for several minutes just gazing at the moon. Tomorrow the moon would be full and it would be the day he claimed his mate.

With that thought, Fenrir opened the door and went inside. He made Harry comfortable on the small bed in the backroom. He rapped the blanket tightly around the younger male and hesitated a second before kissing the top of Harry's hair.

Unbeknownst to Fenrir, Harry was awake and having a panic attack. His mind was reeling and his forehead tingled. It wasn't the normal tingle he got when he had dreams of Voldemort. It wasn't even where his concealed scar was.

When he heard the door shut and he was sure he was alone Harry's eyes opened and he looked around. His nose was stuffy and his throat dry but he was reluctant to move. Instead, he opted for rolling over and falling back asleep.

_"What do you mean he is not with the order?" Voldemort's voice sent shivers down his spine._

_"He's gone." Draco's lip trembled slightly. "No one knows where he is. His wand was found but he was gone."_

_"Hisss wand?"_

_"Yes My Lord, his uncle claimed he ran away." Draco said, "Potter wouldn't leave his wand behind though."_

_"Find him. I want him found now!"_

_A chorus of 'Yes My Lord' echoed in the vast room._

_"Now, give me your arm Draco."_

Harry awoke with a burning in his scar. He set up and got off the bed, he really needed to use the bathroom. He opened the door and wandered down stairs and ended up in the kitchen.

"You're awake." Fenrir stated turning away from the stove. "Hungry?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

"Ah, it's the room down the hall." Fenrir replied stirring the pot. "Diner will be ready in a few minutes."

Harry found the bathroom and relieved himself. He then rummaged threw the bathroom cabinet and found some cold medicine. He downed a few pills and washed it down with some water from the faucet.

Wiping his mouth off Harry made his way back to the kitchen. He didn't want to face Fenrir, but he was a Gryffindor and as a Gryffindor he faced his problems head on. Hiding wouldn't help him now.

"How long was I asleep?" Harry asked making himself comfortable at the kitchen table. He breathed deeply and the smell of the cooking food made his stomach rumble. He blushed when Fenrir chuckled slightly.

"A while, it's early. The sun will be up soon." Fenrir dished out some noodles from the pot into a bowl. "Here." He handed the bowl over to Harry along with a fork, even though he found fingers to be far superior utensils.

"Thank you." Harry shoveled the noodles down his throat, barely stopping to breathe. Raman noodles had never tasted so good.

"I plan to bite you tomorrow." Fenrir stated and pause as Harry spluttered and chocked on his noodles. "Or I suppose later today actually."

"Please don't." Harry's appetite suddenly disappeared as he stared across the table at the larger male. "You don't have to."

"Yes I do. You're mine now and I don't plan to let you go." Fenrir frowned at the tremble he saw in his mates lip. The scent of fear permeated the air and any other time Fenrir would have relished in it, but coming from his mate it was a completely different story. He actually felt bad, and that was a first.

"Is there any other way?" Harry begged, "Please don't turn me." He had heard from Remus how painful the full moon was. That wasn't what he wanted.

Fenrir eyed his mate suspiciously. He planned to claim the boy before turning him. The claiming bite would deter any other wolfs from touching him and the second bite would happen when the moon was high above, and that would be the bite that turned him. "If I claim you I have to turn you too."

Harry worried his bottom lip before asking, "Can't you just claim me without turning me?" Harry was reluctant to be claimed by this man, wolfs mated for life after all, but he didn't really see anyway out of it.

Despite what Snape thought Harry wasn't stupid. He knew that he couldn't run or defeat Fenrir by himself. The best thing to do would just stay put and try to think of a plan. Knowing this didn't make Harry feel any better, if anything it made him feel worse.

"If I just claimed you," Fenrir explained closely watching his mate across the wooden table. "That wouldn't stop me from turning you when I shifted."

Harry poked at the noodles deep in thought.

Fenrir shifted back in his chair and waited for his mate to finally accept he would become a werewolf. This time he would let his new companion accept it before he bit him that was his mistake last time.

"But…" Harry trailed off not quite certain he wanted to reveal any more information about himself.

Fenrir stayed silent watching his mates face scrunch up in frustration. It was honestly adorable.

"You don't have to turn me." Harry quickly added, "At least not right now. Please. I'm an animagus. I can stay with you during the full moon. I promise I won't run."

Fenrir had assumed his mate was a wizard because of how quickly he guessed the man was a werewolf, but he wasn't expecting him to be powerful enough to become an animagus. He was proud of his mate, despite his hatred for magic.

"I'm a dog animagus, like my god father, I can accompany you during the full moon." Harry avoided eye contact with Fenrir. He instead focused on his fingernails. "Please don't turn me. I beg you."

Fenrir frowned. He opened his mouth and then quickly shut it. He could see where his mate was coming from. Wizards were told constantly how horrible werewolves were. How evil and dark they were. Forcibly turning the boy would only prove these points.

Fenrir grinded his teeth together in frustration, his instinct told him to demand submission and just tell the boy he would be turned and he would like it!

Seeing the irritation written across Fenrir's face Harry quickly added. "I'm sick and injured. I feel horrible. I honestly don't think I'll survive the transformation."

This was another thing Fenrir hadn't fully thought about. Not everyone survived. His mate was weak. He barley ate any of the noodles and he was pale as snow all except for his cheeks which were an unnatural shade of red.

"I can't promise I won't bite you when I turn, but if you are submissive enough I will try to resist."


	4. 4

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to reading my humble story, also thanks to all my lovely reviewers. I appreciate it all.

Enjoy.

Warning: Underage drinking.

Chapter Four: Claimed

After breakfast, Harry excused himself to go take a bath. He was thrilled to find that the hot water worked perfectly; and to his surprise, he even found several small bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Harry washed his hair, careful to avoid his head wound that was nothing more that a sore spot now. He lathered up his hair and the bubbles were only a tinge of red.

He relaxed in the water until it ran cold and he was forced to get out. Even then, he was hesitant. Staying in the cold water was more appealing that facing the man he who was going to claim him. Harry paused for a second and sat on the edge of the tub, a towel around his waste haphazardly, he tried to figure out what being claimed would feel like.

Would it make him act any different? Would it leave a scar? There were so many things left unanswered. He was terrified for tonight. What if being claimed wasn't enough? What if Fenrir turned him by accident?

Harry cleaned off his glasses and made sure his glamour charm was still up, even though now it was habitual. His magic just covered up the scar by its self. Harry didn't even need to speak the words.

Harry slid the old pair of jeans on and along with a white sleeveless shirt. He then exited the bathroom and found Fenrir sitting quietly in the living room.

Fenrir's looked up and they made eye contact. Harry gulped the intensity in the golden eyes made his face flush and his heart speed up, which in turn got Fenrir's attention. His eyed dilated as he watched his fidgeting mate. He could hear the intake of breath, and the rapid heart beat.

"When are you going to claim me?" Harry asked shifting his feet in anticipation.

That was when Fenrir's resolve snapped. Hearing his mate ask that was too much for him, it made his blood boil. Fenrir stood and cornered Harry against the wall. His hands went to his mate's waist to keep him in place. Fenrir towered over the younger male.

Harry remained still. His eyes immediately shut and his teeth clinched. He waited for a bite that never came, instead Fenrir nibbled on his neck.

Harry gasped, his hands shot up to Fenrir's head to push him away but instead ended up tangled in his long hair.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked his breath hitching as Fenrir's rough tongue soothed the red spot on his neck.

"Take your clothes off." Fenrir drew back from Harry, but his hands remained firmly on the boys hips.

Harry spluttered, "Wait what?"

Fenrir didn't answer, instead he just tugged the boys shirt off. Once the shirt was removed Fenrir ran his nose across the boys chest. He needed to find the perfect spot to bite him. Since it would leave a scar, and that brought up the question did he want to make it visible to other people? Or be in a sacred place that only he would have the privilege of seeing.

He chose the latter. "Listen to me closely." He waited until he saw the ebony haired male nod and they made eye contact. "I'm going to claim you. It will hurt, nothing too horrible, but it will involve pain." This made Harry shudder, Fenrir noticed it but continued. "I'm going to bite you on the inside of your right thigh."

Harry nodded. He was thankful that Fenrir chose some place he could cover up with clothing. His stomach did flip-flops and Fenrir led him over the couch. He pushed him down making him sit. "It will be easier if you're comfortable. Is there anything I can get you before we continue?" Fenrir asked.

"I have to use the bathroom, but um… could you get me a glass of water?"

Fenrir agreed and went into the kitchen while Harry fled into the bathroom. He shut the door and leaned against it. Breathing deeply Harry tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. The notion that wolfs mated for life, that he would be stuck with a man he barely new for his entire life was sickening.

Harry clenched his mouth shut. He could feel the warm bile rising up his throat and he was unable to suppress it. He buried his face in the porcelain bowl and emptied his stomach.

The door creaked open and Harry felt fingers run through his hair. He opened his mouth to say something but just ended up retching again. Fenrir gently helped the boy to his feet after his stomach was emptied and handed him the glass of water.

Fenrir felt the boy's forehead; it wasn't warm but clammy instead.

Harry apologized and sipped at the water to clean the bile taste out of his mouth; grimacing he swished his mouth out and spat the dirty water in the sink.

"Are you sick?" Fenrir asked.

"Just nervous," Harry replied avoiding Fenrir's piercing eyes.

Fenrir felt instantly guilty. "I apologize. I shouldn't have been so forceful." He then pulled the boy into an awkward hug and refused to let go until Harry relaxed. He ignored his base instinct and focused on comforting his mate. He didn't have much experience but he had seen parents hug their crying children and that seemed to work.

Humans relief on physical contact.

Harry gently returned the hug. The heat emanating off Fenrir's body made Harry's head swim and he unwillingly relaxed. What he was feeling reminded him of the first time he had tried Fire Whisky with Ron and the twins.

With his head buried in Fenrir's chest Harry asked, "Can I look around in the kitchen?"

Fenrir though the request was strange but could not bring himself to deny his mate. "Of course," Fenrir said.

"Thank you." Harry removed himself from the older man. He shivered and Fenrir noticed this.

"I'll go get some firewood."

Fenrir left his mate to look for dry wood, which was difficult but he didn't want his mate to get sicker. Humans were sensitive creatures. Too cold and they would sneeze and wheeze, too hot and they would complain and sweat. Heat and coolness both caused lethargy and Fenrir wanted his mate active and happy.

While Fenrir was dutifully searching for suitable wood, Harry was rummaging about the kitchen looking for alcohol.

His knowledge of alcohol was limited to only a few accounts. However, he did know that people did strange things will intoxicated and it was called liquid courage for a reason. He needed both. His limbs were shaking and his mind reeling.

In one of the cupboards, he found a half-empty bottle of tequila and dirty shot glasses. He washed out the glass and poured himself a shot. With a deep breath, Harry downed the shot and gagged.

It was better than Fire Whisky but it still burned and tasted horrible, but most alcohol did.

Harry took another shot and the dizziness descended down on him. He poured another shot and took it to him with the bathroom. He downed it and brushed his teeth to get rid of the taste.

Then he staggered into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He removed his glasses and his eyes closed automatically.

A gentle caressing of his cheek awaked him and he rolled over taking the arm with him as a pillow. Harry snuggled into the hand and even though his eyes were closed, he felt the room spin.

Fenrir chuckled at his sleepy mate. The boy cuddled into his open palm and that made a small smile tug at his lips. "I know you're tired, but this will only take a second." Fenrir helped his mate into a sitting position. He propped him up with pillows and brushed the unruly black hair away from the sweaty forehead.

Fenrir saw this as an opportunity. The boy was relaxed and biting him would be easier. The sexual part of mating could wait. He was a bit disappointed but the health of his mate came first and the distinct smell of toothpaste signified, to him, that his mate must have vomited once again. The flushed face and increased sweatiness also seemed to state that his mate was sick.

Fenrir made sure his mate was comfortable and rolled up the shorts until he saw the milky white flesh of Harry's thigh. He then tenderly kissed the spot.

Harry whimpered, even through the haze of alcohol he knew what was about to happen. His hands instinctively came to rest on Fenrir's shoulders as if to push him away, but he didn't because he lacked the physical strength and he was so tired.

He located the spot he wished to bite and with out any warning he sunk his unnaturally sharp teeth into the flawless skin. Blood welled up in his mouth and euphoria settled over him.

When he slowly came down from the high the first thing he noticed was that his mate was twisting and turning trying to get out of his grasp. His voice was hoarse and his face screwed up in agony as he cried and pleaded for Fenrir to stop.

Blood stained the bedding and Fenrir felt guiltily as he removed his teeth from the withering boy. Guilt was one of the newer emotions he had been feeling lately and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

It was a human emotion. Another thing about humans Fenrir could add to the list.

Fenrir shushed the boy and muttered an apology. He held the crying boy close whispering comforting things into his ear. Tears soaked his neck and he held his mate until the sobs receded and the boy stopped trembling.

Fenrir moved Harry to the other side of the bed and removed the blood soaked comforter. He went back into the living room to stroked the fire back to life, and to grabbed a spare blanket. Then he joined his mate in bed.

He went to go and turn off the lamb beside his sleeping mate when something peculiar caught his attention. There on his mates forehead, hidden behind a few stray black curls was a lighting bolt scar.

Fenrir traced the scar and watched as his mate's face scrunched up in pain. He stopped and the boys face relaxed back into a deep slumber.

"Harry," Fenrir shook his head in shock. "Harry Potter."

/F/H/F/H

Meanwhile at the Burrow, Ron and Hermione were debating whether to tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that they hadn't received any letters from Harry in weeks.

It wasn't unusual for Harry to not write for weeks upon weeks during the summer months but with the increased Death Eater attacks they were both worried.

"We should tell them Ron. What if something is wrong?" Hermione said. "Harry could be injured or-"

Ron cut her off, "Oh come on Hermione. Everything is fine. You know how Harry's uncle his, Harry just hasn't written because his uncle probably won't let him. He's fine."

His words were meant to have a calming effect on his girlfriend, but they had the opposite effect. However, Hermione eventually muttered, "Alright Ron. I suppose you're right."

With a satisfied grin Ron asked, "So wanna go snog now?"

Hermione huffed but a blush dusted her cheeks. "Honestly Ronald."


	5. 5

Chapter Five: Hunger

Harry awoke with a start, his heart hammered, sweat coated his brow, and his breath was visible in the darkness. Instinctively he wiped the sweat of his forehead, his fingers lingered over where his scar was, but due to his glamour charm in place, it was invisible. He focused on the glamour and strengthened it. The last thing he wanted was a werewolf knowing who he was. Fenrir might not be a Deatheater since he had no darkmark but Harry was still wary and unwilling to risk it.

He took note of the darkness and peaked through the curtains, it was bright outside due to the large glowing moon high in the sky. Panicking Harry held his breath and listened for Fenrir. However, no sound met his ear except for the whistling of the wind outside.

He smacked his lips and grimaced at the horrible taste there. Cautiously Harry shuffled out of the room and into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. As quiet as possible he moved to the living room where he cracked the front door, it squeaked obscenely loud, but Harry poked his head out and looked around. There in the moon light

Harry backed away from the door as quick as his feet would allow. His hands immediately shot out to fumble with the lock on the front door; however, he hesitated and didn't turn the lock he just waited and when nothing happened he stepped away from the door and prepared to shift into his animagus form. He put his glasses away and stripped his cloths off setting them on a table beside the door. He cracked the door, just enough to slip out, this caused Fenrir to howl, the howl was deafening and it shook Harry's entire being. The wolf shifted into a standing position but remained a safe distance from the house.

Swallowing his fear away, Harry focused and cleared his mind. His skin tingled, his bones shifted, his hair prickled and his eyes changed as he shifted into his canine form. He popped his head out the front door and cautiously approached the larger canine. He kept his head down and stomach low to the ground.

The wolf's glowing amber eyes never left the smaller black dog. He sniffed the air and knocked his mate to the ground. A voice in the back of the wolf's head chanted, _'Don't hurt him. He's our mate. He's fragile. He's precious to us. '_

As soon as Harry hit the ground, he rolled over on his back, with his stomach exposed and waited. Fenrir pounced and dug his nose roughly into Harry's neck and stomach. He sniffed, ignoring the quite whimpers, until he was satisfied that the smaller wolf was indeed his mate. He could smell the shampoo and the soap Harry had used. It smelt fake and disgusting he wanted to smell just his mate without any harsh chemicals and concentrated scents.

He playfully nipped at his mate's neck, which terrified Harry into total submission. Noticing the change in the smaller wolf, Fenrir backed off with a low whine. He moved away allowing Harry to shakily stand. Fenrir turned and trotted off into the forest, Harry followed hesitantly, he was tempted to turn around and hide in the safety of the cabin but that wasn't the person he was. He refused to hide from his problems.

Fenrir led the boy to a frozen over stream. The wolf rolled around on the ice, and Harry joined him. He didn't know why he was rolling on the ground but he wouldn't dare not follow Fenrir's lead, being ripped to shreds was not appealing. He did want to see his friends again but that absolutely wouldn't happen if he was dead, so he instead resigned his pride and submitted, which was exactly what the wolf wanted. When his fur was cold and wet Harry stopped, he shook tying try to rid himself of the excess water cleaning to his coat and strive of the cold.

Fenrir gave a tentative sniff and deemed his mates scent acceptable, It had an edge of nature combined with Harry's natural musk.

After that, things became less tense. The rest of the night continued uneventful and by the end of it, Harry ended up curled in a ball napping lightly. The wolf curled around the boy in a protective manor and snoozed with him until he could feel the beginning of his transformation back into human form.

The wolf anatomy shifted back into his human body. The transformation was painful, but was far from the worst pain Fenrir had ever felt. It was manageable.

Stark naked Fenrir felt no shame as he lifted his mate, who was still in his animagus form, and carried him back to the house. He set his peacefully slumbering mate on the couch and started work on preparing a stew.

While he cooked, which was not his specialty, his mind was occupied on Harry Potter- his mate. He didn't like the fact his mate was magical. Fenrir loathed magic, wizards were notoriously cruel to his kind. They hunted and killed werewolves without remorse. Just thinking of humans made his skin crawl and his teeth clinched in anger.

He was a loner, a pack complicated things. Things had not always been that way though. When he was a child he had been part of a pack. The alpha was a strong man. He was older, a grandfather looking man. He had saved Fenrir from freezing to dead and accepted him into the pack with out question.

Three years later, they crossed over into British territory and were hunted down by Aurors. Fenrir barley escaped. He was smaller and easily missed.

Fenrir didn't know much about his mate, but just the thought of anyone hurting his mate angered him more than he would like to acknowledge.

Harry Potter, his mate. The notion was difficult for him to wrap his mind around. Once again, he was part of a pack. This time he would protect his pack. It was only him and Harry and that was just perfect for Fenrir.

The pot on the stove hissed startling Fenrir out of his thoughts. He attended to the stew adding some spices and letting it simmer. He was in the middle of stirring the pot when he heard the distinct sound of his mate waking.

First, there was an intake of breath, and then the breathing returned human like. Harry stretched, his bones popped, and a low hiss of presumably pain escaped him. Fenrir silently waited and after several minutes, Harry poked his head into the kitchen.

"'Morning." Harry stifled a yawn.

Fenrir eyed his exhausted mate who was standing uneasily in the kitchen threshold. "Hungry?" He asked giving the pot an unnecessary stir.

Harry's hands went to his stomach and he gave a nod. "You bit me." He said, his voice lacked an accusing tone to it, he was simply stating a fact. Harry's hand moved from his empty stomach down the scar on his right thigh.

Fenrir didn't reply. His eyes sought out the bite mark that he could see peaking out of the bottom of Harry's shorts. Noticing the attention Harry couldn't help but cover the scar with his hand. He didn't like the way Fenrir was looking at it, his eyes were hungry and wild.

Fenrir cupped the boy's cheek, guiding the younger male further into the kitchen, and then backing him up against a wall. "Don't cover it up." Fenrir hand moved from Harry's cheek down to rest on top of his trembling hand. "Not in front of me."

Harry could feel the heat of Fenrir's hand covering his, he could smell the distinct scent of the man, and he could feel the rhythmic breathing on his face. He could also hear the man's heartbeat, which he found extremely strange.

Startled at the new sensation Harry forgot his embarrassment and asked, "Things are much clearer that they were before. I can hear all kinds of things and my vision, it's perfect. I don't understand what is going on."

Fenrir couldn't help but smile at his mate. "They are because of the bond we now share." Fenrir held Harry's hand tightly and he brought it to his lip, Harry held his breath expecting to be bit again, but Fenrir kissed it and lead him gently the kitchen table.

Fenrir scooped some stew into a bowl and presented it to his mate. He wanted his mate happy and comfortable. "Here, eat."

"Thank you." Harry forced down his discomfit and began eating. "This is great." He said between mouthfuls. The stew was somewhat bland and tasteless but he wasn't going to complain, he had survived on less before and he was actually surprised that the werewolf was taking care of him. He was feeding Harry and treating him much better than his Aunt and Uncle did.

Fenrir attention focused on his mate, who was shoveling the stew into his mount completely innocent to the effect it was having on Fenrir. He joined the boy at the table and they eat in silence. Harry too consumed with this thoughts failed to notice the hungry look in Fenrir's eyes.

/F/H/F/H

Sealing the envelope Hermione tied the letter to the impatiently waiting owl. "Take this to Harry, Pig." The owl fluttered his wings and took off.

With a huff, she shut the window, not before hearing an ear-splitting howl that made her shiver. "Poor Remus," She muttered locking the window.

"Hey Hermione!" Ron poked his head in the room frightening Hermione and making her jump.

"Ronald! Don't do that." Hermione gasped.

"'M sorry." Ron grinned sheepishly. "Dinner is ready."

"Alright. I'll be down soon."

Ron shrugged and headed back down stairs eager for dinner.


End file.
